


Happy Beginnings

by Umbrella_ella



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Christmas is the perfect time for romance, David is smart and gives good advice, F/F, Getting Together, Happy Ending, canon compliant sort of, dad!Charming, not really but i don't even care because canon is hot garbage, references to Killian/Emma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:14:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28055202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Umbrella_ella/pseuds/Umbrella_ella
Summary: “I used to come here to get away from Kathryn, you know, before,” David says, his voice soft in the snow-laden night air, his eyes blue and kind when Emma meets his gaze, “it was always a place of sanctuary for me, somehow.”Emma swallows and doesn’t want to think too hard about what he means, doesn’t want to think about how alike they must be if they both take solace in the bitter cold of Maine evenings, if he too once thought about drifting away on the waves, far away, and clears her throat sharply.--Emma's happy ending isn't the one she wants, not really. So she does the one thing she's good at. She runs. Except maybe this time, she's running towards something too. An SQ holiday mini-fic.
Relationships: Evil Queen | Regina Mills/Emma Swan
Comments: 1
Kudos: 30





	Happy Beginnings

**Author's Note:**

> This is a short fic that popped into my head and wouldn't go away until I wrote it down. I expect it to be cheesy, short, and full of fluff.

Emma breathes out shakily, her hands nearly numb with cold, and she tugs her leather jacket against her, ineffective though it is. The cold winter air snaps at her bare hands, and she tucks them into her shallow pockets, and tries not to think of what she’d left behind.

Her hair whips in the wind, and her stomach is in knots, her thoughts drifting aimlessly as she jogs, her breath hanging in the air, distance between herself and what she’s running from growing greater as she drifts deeper into the cold winter night.

* * *

_Killian had been too much in that moment, but she had plastered a smile on her face for the sake of her parents, especially her mom, who had looked at Emma and Killian with her big doe eyes and that look on her face that said that Emma had made the right choice. She had felt trapped, and escaped to the kitchen, intent on catching her breath._

_Killian joined her in the small kitchen, his bulky frame blocking her in as she concentrated on scrubbing at the small bit of potato that was stuck onto Neal’s plate, and then, and then his hand had curled around her hips, the steel of his hook biting into the skin of her side, his lips brushing her ear as he murmured into her ear, and Emma’s stomach had clenched at the smell of rumsweet breath. The plate slipped from her fingers, and the sound of ceramic shattering broke the moment, and then she was running, her feet pounding on the stairs, and then across the cold, icy pavement as she escaped._

* * *

With a shiver, she huffs into the harsh winter air, and she thinks about her mom, about the deep furrow between her eyes, about the way her dad had called after her, and she feels the burn of tears at the edge of her vision. The way Killian had grabbed her, heavy-handed, possessive fingers curling into her skin, it was too much, and Emma swallows thickly at the memory, and she turns left down Main, towards the docks, and it’s when she reaches the edge of the pier that she finally stops, her legs aching with the need to _runrunrunrunrunrunbecausehowcanshenot?_ and she sighs out. Her eyes flutter shut as the snow falls, thick and heavy on her shoulders, and Emma breathes, then, takes a deep breath that tastes of cold and fog and Maine, and she grounds herself, and she’s here and it’s all okay. She’s not sure how long she stands like that, her eyes closed, the water slapping at the edge of the worn wood— a ringing in her pocket breaks the quiet stillness, and she fishes her phone from her pocket, glancing at the screen. _Killian._

His picture is handsome, dark eyes aglow, and she finds herself wishing it were another face staring up at her and her heart thuds in her throat at _that_.

She had played along for too long, and her heart aches at the way her mother’s eyes had sparkled as Killian had gotten down on one knee, and her stomach pitches at the way Killian’s lips had claimed her own, hard and cruel and too _much_ and she bends over, her stomach emptying itself of the meager meal she’d had afterward, and she takes the ring from her pocket— she’d made every excuse she can not to wear it at supper, and she watches the obnoxious diamond sparkle in the snowlit air, and the sky is tinged with grey as she swallows thickly.

_No, this is not what she wants._

She drops it, then, waves swaying beneath the dock, and she watches it slip between the cracks of the pier, feeling lighter as it sinks, the darkness claiming it.

She sits on the bench and ponders the last time she’d been okay, happy even, thinks of Henry and of Regina, of kind brown eyes, of a sad smile, of dark hair fluttering in the cool autumn wind, and she closes her eyes. She wonders what it might be like to have what she wants for once. She thinks of _hi_ , of _you thought we were friends?,_ of _Em-ma_ , and it’s all _too_ much, and she thinks of Henry, of _our son_ , and her heart aches with the sheer _wanting_ of it all.

Her thoughts are interrupted by the familiar roar of an engine, and David calls out to her as the door slams, the headlights illuminating the quickly descending darkness.

David sighs out a deep breath, sinking onto the bench with Emma, and Emma readies herself for the inevitable, for the way he will spout off about happy endings and true love and Killian. He’s quiet for a long while, listening to the lap of water against the docks and he looks up at the sky, watching the snow drift down in lazy swirls of white.

“I used to come here to get away from Kathryn, you know, before,” David says, his voice soft in the snow-laden night air, his eyes blue and kind when Emma meets his gaze, “it was always a place of sanctuary for me, somehow.”

Emma swallows and doesn’t want to think too hard about what he means, doesn’t want to think about how alike they must be if they both take solace in the bitter cold of Maine evenings, if he too once thought about drifting away on the waves, far away, and clears her throat sharply. Her face is numb from the cold as the wind whips her hair away from her neck, and she toes at a divot in the grass. David doesn’t speak again; instead he hands her a thermos, and when she drinks, the coffee is hot and bitter and strong, and she closes her eyes, relishing the warmth.

“We don’t all have to pretend, Em,” he says, and his words are soft, comforting, but her stomach twists nonetheless, “You and I are alike, in ways that your mom can’t see, because you’re too _noble_ , like your old man.” The way his lips curve around the word, nearly mocking, sets Emma on edge, because she knows, she knows what’s next and she _knows_ , but she’s not _ready_.

“Hook, he’s…” David pauses, takes a heavy breath, “he’s not what makes you happy, _who_ makes you happy. I know that, I— I shouldn’t have made you feel like you had to— to compromise, because that’s not what happy endings are, Emma. Your mom, she pushes too hard, sometimes, and maybe she— _we_ pushed you into this.”

Emma trembles, then, because this is too much, too _close_. David gives voice to her deepest feelings, and her heart thunders in the silence, and she stares at out the mooring of boats that rise and fall with the waves, and doesn’t say a word.

“Make the choice that’s right for _you_. All your mother and I want is your happiness.” David stands, and he tugs his jacket tight around himself, and takes a step, pausing, and Emma doesn’t look at him, too afraid to see all that she doesn’t want to see, all of the pity and the sadness and the hope.

“She won’t wait forever, Emma.”

A moment passes, the truck door creaks and slams and David shifts it into gear before trundling away, leaving Emma in the still night.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a review, and make sure to keep an eye out for the next chapter!


End file.
